Achievement Shitty
by NightBurd
Summary: Video game guys in a video game world. The Achievement Hunter/Rooster Teeth gang live in an alternate universe full of gaming and war and slightly supernatural plots and people.. Hope you like :)
1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Update:

Achievement City.

Once, small, cosy town with a couple of houses and a beautiful beach view. Now? It's in ruins.

The City is ruled in the centre by what they call the Platinum District, known by the locals as the Plats. This area is filled with skyscrapers, big business buildings, and parks built purely to show off. Many people live there, but they will mostly only associate with people from the Plats.

Around the edges of the Plats lies the Golden District. In our world, this would be where the middle class, and lower middle class people worked and lived. Smoky. Gloomy. Grey. Unfriendly. Cold.

Unpleasant.

But far worse, is the last district, and the largest; The Copper District. You see, if the whole city was to be seen as a large target board, the Platinum District would be minute, about 10% of the map and about the size of your smallest finger nail if Achievement City was the size of your palm. The Golden District would be barely any bigger, a thin strip around the centre, about 15% of the city. And then of course, the entire rest of the city is dominated by the Cops, ironically named because of who they had the most run ins with.

This area, was 75%.

He sat in a dark room on the second floor of a dim apartment, the only light source in view shining almost painfully bright from the small, old TV in the corner. Four men crowded around it, shouting, biting their lips and mashing buttons on a tiny controller. Behind them, about a metre back, was another twenty men women and children, watching intently.

He stood next to the TV set, watching the cars of GTA 12.2 fly across the screen, feeling a shiver of anticipation run through him as they neared the finish line.

In his tight grip was a microphone, hooked up to some kind of shoddy amp and creating sound waves on a computer.

"The end is nigh! In first place, guaranteed a victory at the pace he's going, DragonBallN!" he cried out, and bit on his finger. What first place couldn't see, was that right behind him was another racer, with a rocket loaded in his power-ups.

"But..OH!" The room rose to it's feet, shouting and screaming and hugging each other and throwing controllers in the air.

"MLPMICHAEL HAS PULLED IT OUT THE BAG, MICHAEL JONES AT THE VERY LAST SECOND, AIMS A ROCKET ON THE SPOT TO HIS LEFT, CAUSING HIM TO SWERVE AND FOR HIM TO TAKE FIRST PLACE, OH MY GOODNESS, OH MY GOD." he shouted, and ran over to the victor.

"How the fuck are you doing Michael Jones?"

"Dude, I'm awesome." he laughed into the mic.

"Of course you are, congratulations on a fantastic victory." he responded. "That's all for me today, and I'll be back again tomorrow morning." he added, and switched the mic off.

He smiled to himself as he started to pack up his equipment and take his leave. A quick look at the computer told him that he had got too caught up in Jones's victory, as the audio had spiked near the end, and would definitely be too fuzzy to hear for a couple of seconds in the track.

"Where you going?"

He looked up, but had to readjust his viewpoint. In front of him stood a small little girl with blonde hair and a patched skirt. He remembered her. The adopted kid. Found on the road and never quite accepted. Although from first glance, she fit in pretty well with the Coppers. She looked kinda rough.

He smiled politely at her and kneeled down to her height as she continued to talk.

"We're having a party now. Why you gonna leave when it finally gets fun?" she asked, and tilted her head to one side. He chuckled, and got down on his knees. This wasn't a quick conversation anymore.

"What kid, you don't like video games or sump'n?" he asked good-humouredly.

The girl shrugged. "Nah. There's no point to it."

He looked genuinely confused. "The point is it's fun."

"Yeah but 'part from the stupid guys who bet on it and _lose_," she emphasised, "there's no point. You could be out doing anything else." she explained. The man frowned.

"Well like what?" he said, now befuddled that this girl seemed be showing off a mind like an oldie born in a different time.

"Like gettin' some fuckin money?" she answered, and pulled one side of her lip up to show her teeth, all with gaps in the middle like a proper roughie. The way she looked at him made _him _feel like a child, her jeering expression almost as if to say,

'_Duh._'

"Alright kid well I gotta go." he said, kinda weirded out by her way of thinking. If this was what the girl thought was normal, then what the hell was her adopted family like?

"Wait, man!" she shouted and pulled on his ripped blazer as he got up. He turned and raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you the dude on the radio?"

Now this made the man smile. He tugged at his collar and nodded down to her. She broke into a gap-toothed smile.

"I like you, Ray." she gave him a nod of approval, before running back into the throng of partying Coppers.

He walked away beaming. Proud at being recognised but..confused. The world revolved around video games..how could she not..?

Ray cleared his head and walked out of the apartment, onto the grimy streets. He pushed himself through dirty, honking cars on the road in a mazy pattern through the neighbourhood, since frankly, the roads with cars were safer than the pavements..with Coppers.

He ended up in a bit of the district with flickering lights on the road. Kind of a luxury in these parts. Opening a half broken glass door with no lock, he climbed up brown carpeted stairs, walking past different rooms. He had always thought it was quite fun to walk through the apartment building, and hear snippets of everyone's lives.

A baby crying and a frustrated father on the first floor.

A man and woman shouting over each other in a heated argument. The woman actually appeared, dark hair blowing out from behind her and cheap make up plastered on her face. She took one look at Ray's shocked and admittedly awkward face, growled, and slammed the door behind her as she made for the stairs.

A dog on floor three.

Some very adult sounds coming out of one room on floor four, which Ray hurried past.

And silence on floor six.

He stopped in front of his apartment, got out his loud keys for the many locks that he had on the door, and started to make the long journey that was the 'unlocking of Brownman's door'.

The paint-peeling door of number 34 swung open to reveal the bare Copper District apartment. Ray dumped his stuff on the carpet and let out a sigh of relief. It was good to be home. Even if home really was a kind of dump. But he felt comforted most by sense of recognition for him. Not as if he wanted fame, that kind of lifestyle wasn't for him. But Brownman Ray's Radio was well known around the Cops and it kept him safe. What kind of dick head would steal from the local news guy?

No one he knew anyway, and Ray knew a lot of people.

He grabbed a big mug and stirred some coffee to try and keep him awake through the long night of editing he had ahead of him. He had gotten home at 11:33, and the early morning show was at 5:00 am. He was just taking a tentative sip of the caffeinated brown shit, thinking of hiring a trustworthy employee, when he heard a knock on the door.

"Argh!" he yelled, spilling the coffee on his neck. "Shit that burns." he murmured, mopping it up with a towel.

The knock sounded again.

Impatient bastard.

Ray took big steps towards the door with a fixed frown on his forehead and ducked beneath his head height. If it was someone there to take his shit they'd have a gun ready, and crouching would definitely catch them off guard.

"Who is i-" he swung open the door with the element of surprise and looked up to see a startled Barbara D.

They both stood, Ray on his knees and her looking down apon him for a few heartbeats, before he stood up, smoothed down his tie, and Barb burst into laughter.

"What the fuck was that?" she cried out, wiping fake tears from her eyes in her amusement.

"Safety precautions, where the fuck do you think you live, the Plats?" he growled, and opened the door for her to come inside.

"You looked like an angry hobbit!" she chuckled, stepping further into Ray's apartment, and inviting herself to the undrunk cup of coffee left on the sink. Ray rolled his eyes behind her.

"What're you doing here Barb? I have a lot of editing to do." he said impatiently.

"Oh sure, sure, sorry Mr Brownman." she waved her arms about comically, and Ray set his jaw. Barbara D and him got a long usually, but he was tired and she had recently won a bet against him, which made him look stupid on the show.

"Look, I just wanted to come in and ask if you'd had any more thoughts on...y'know, that thing I asked about a while ag-"

"No means no man." Ray said firmly. "An' watcha speaking so weird for? There's no one here." he added frustratedly.

Barb looked around anxiously and shook her head, placing her fingers on the bridge of her nose. When she looked up again, Ray realised how tired and old she looked. Recruiting people for that little group of hers must be hard work if it was also meant to be a secret.

"We could seriously use you dude." she asked. Her words were persistent but her tone made him think that she had given up long ago. Like she was pressing because of someone else's request and not her own.

"No, you couldn't. I have a radio station to run and for god's sake I'm about as sporty as an obese grandma. Why're you still trying?" he said gently, trying to hit her weak spot. He knew she didn't wanna be here, and neither did he. But she had clearly picked up on his intentions and gave him a sharp look.

"Don't pretend like I don't know, Ray." she said in a hushed voice, leaning forward. A flash of panic ran through him and he took an alarmed step backwards.

"No." he said quietly, then cleared his voice and spoke again. "N,o I-" he paused and forced himself to calm down.

"No man, no. I don't do that stuff anymore and I...I wouldn't remember how to anyway." he said, and slapped on a good-natured smile.

There was silence between them as Barbara took him in, and he studied her with equal intensity. Her blonde hair was tied up tightly in a bun, hidden slightly behind a large burgundy hoodie. She did look tired. But if he kept at it; saying no until she gave up, maybe this whole little revolution thing would just sputter and die.

A car alarm sounded in the distance, and their connection snapped.

She shrugged.

"Whatever dude. If you don't get involved now you will later." she picked up her hood, which had fallen down in the process of staring, and placed it back on her bun. Barbara D turned around, slammed the door, and didn't say a word otherwise.

Giving up on his stupid editing, Ray shook himself and laughed to the air. It felt wrong as soon as he did it.

It was cold and gloomy now, and he felt like all of the wasted carbon had almost frozen and disappeared upon exit from his lips. He dropped the fake smile, crawled under his thin sheets, and prayed that sleep would take him, before his racing mind did.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Update:

'Another bomb landed very near Doverman Street, killing no less than one hundred men and children, and leaving more than three dozen with serious, life scarring casualties. The women who all lived nearby and were mothers and wives to the dead and wounded, were apparently almost all on a march down near the Platinum District at the time, demanding better rights, conditions, and laws letting Coppers get higher paying jobs. There are rumours this attack was meant to target them, and their-'

He turned the knob and switched the radio off. Silence followed.

"It's just the Brownman, he exaggerates a load of shit anyways." he said dismissively, trying to comfort the people around him. Some nodded absentmindedly. Most just stared out of the windows in the apartment with blank expressions.

He clapped his hands.

"Alright, come on." they all looked up at him expectantly, and in that moment he decided. "We gotta stop this. Let's get a big recruitment party together and move out. In one week, we'll regroup here. You are to train them with the basics, and we'll attack as soon as we get back." he ordered. No one moved. They all looked shocked.

"Did you think you signed up for Book Club or something?" he shouted at them.

"GET MOVING!" he yelled, and everyone set off with a laugh. He walked over to a girl with blonde hair, intending to speak first, but she turned and opened her mouth to get the first sentence.

"I was gonna-"

"Nuh uh Barb." he interrupted, shaking his head. "Go to Brownman. This thing relies on him." he said. Barbara's jaw dropped down and her eyes narrowed into furious blue slits.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're always sending me on that dick, he's not gonna join!" she snapped.

"We need him. Do anything you can to persuade him." he said, and winked at her. She looked confused, but as he turned around and started walking away, she grabbed his shoulder and whipped him back around to face him. With a flurry of hair and burning eyes she whacked the side of his face.

"If you think I'm gonna suck tha-" she growled and pointed a finger at him, but he cut her off. "Jesus Barb, no I didn't mean that!" he yelled. People were starting to stare around them, so he waved them away and lowered his voice.

"I heard his ex-girlfriend died in the bombing." he explained in hushed tones. Barbara looked exasperated.

"Why the fuck would you wink for that." she shook her head, but before he could say anything else, she turned, whipping him with a strand of her hair, and stalking off and out of the building. He chuckled to himself and frowned, tentatively touching the side of his face for any cuts or bruises beginning to form. He wondered if he had been a little ridiculous with Barb, and decided last minute to change his mind. He was just about to head outside and catch her up-

"Jordan!" someone called out, and he turned with eyebrows raised, still holding the side of his cheek gently.

"Hey Jordan, I just wanted to check with you that this is happening."

A boy with blonde hair was walking closer to him, from across the now empty room. Jordan laughed. "Whaddaya mean?"

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard of," Blondie said harshly. "Do you know how many people are going to die without any real training?" he added more gently. Jordan looked at him dead on, his height making him seem a lot more intimidating than he actually could have ever been on his own.

"Dude, I make the rules around here, I give the orders." he said firmly. "Now why would I be appointed to give stupid orders? I earned my position, I was voted in." he told him. Leaning over the shorter man, he placed his hands on his hips in a patronising manner. The room was now empty, the light from the window shining just lightly enough to light up half of Jordan's face, and render the other side dark and shadowed.

The younger man was one of the teenagers. Name was Uren, typical newbie. Thought he was everything, bragged about how he could defeat a thousand of the Plat security guards in one on one, hand-to-hand combat. Truth was, his thu'um wasn't very useful, everyone found him annoying, and he was often found to be very friendly with the opposition, in whatever state they were. He was a pain in the ass, and if he wasn't careful, he'd be gone soon. But Jordan couldn't just plain get rid of him. He was the kinda guy that would just run straight to the authorities in the Plats, and he knew too much about the team. Like a broken link in a chain, like a splinter in your littlest finger, like a nun at Synagogue, or a Jew in Sunday School; Uren was unwanted.

Uren laughed and flashed him a plastic smile.

"Sure boss. You know what's right." he chimed, and walked out.

Jordan bit his lip and swung his radio up to his mouth, pressing the button for speech as words tumbled out of his mouth.

"Isla, I want Uren right in the back when we attack, don't give him any responsibilities and have someone keep an eye on him." he growled. The response crackled down the line immediately.

"Yes sir..?"

With a determined gleam in his eyes, he nodded to no one in particular, heading out to join the team. His ripped sneakers squeaked on the creaky floorboards beneath him as he took big steps down to the door, and out of the building.

He pushed through the crowd that had gathered outside the apartment building, heading to the pavement on the other side of the patched road. He wrung his hands out in front of him, his face twisted with well hidden anxiety. No matter how calm Jordan seemed, he was falling apart behind his tall walls. And no matter how stupid and fucking annoying Uren was, his words got through to him. At least nine new recruits would have no idea what they were doing on a battlefield. Hopefully, they would find some gems among the rubble of the District.

But, he assured himself, the fact that everyone else in his team had unquestioningly accepted his orders, meant something. Whether the decision was stupid or not, they were loyal, and that made him proud.

Jordan had only been elected team leader after the last leader went MIA, Ali Baker. But that was at least a year ago, and the Lads hadn't really done anything since she had gone. Hell, they hadn't really done much before either.

The Lads had been around for years. Previously, it had been a stupid street gang of punks who messed around and stole shit, but rarely ever got in trouble. It was a group of stoned, aggressive drunks.

Then about five years ago, a few people from the Golden District started getting really really poor, and the Platinum authorities moved them to the Copper District, to live with the lowest. They were pretty mad at the Plats authorities, obviously, and mixed in with the Copper kind, giving private tutoring from a higher class perspective, since the one school in the Cops was full every year with slightly more well off kids.

And when the Cops got more intelligent, they realised that they couldn't sit down and ignore the problems in the District. They had to stand up, and do something, or sit in squalor and live life with no purpose.

Meanwhile, it started getting worse. Random searches in people's houses, brutal questioning, and random kidnapping. And now, bombing.

So the Lads disbanded, and younger, more politically involved kids started joining, and formed a now infamous group of fierce guardians and warriors for the Copper District, hell bent on revenge from the Plats.

"Jordan, c'mere!"

Jordan's head swung around to see Miles, a tall guy with dark hair and an awesome thu'um that he had secretly envied for a long time. Miles waved, and Jordan twisted and shoved through the crowd to get to him.

"Dude, um, I'm really happy to be doing something, and I fully agree with your plan, don't get me wrong," he started. Jordan rolled his eyes. "but who the hell can we recruit, there's no one left with any good thu'ums." he said gently.

Jordan placed a hand on his shoulder, looked at the ground, and looked back up at the guy.

"Nah Miles. You just dunno where to look." he explained, and turned away with a smile.

Jordan faced the crowd, and beckoned for silence.

"Alright. Limit is three days, be back at eleven a.m, next monday."

"Groups are as follows. Isla, Uren; Kerry, Group Golden. Group Platinum is me, Miles, and Barb. And Group Copper is Taurime, Brandon, and JJ."

"Group leaders," he continued. "are Isla, me, and Brandon. Now you guys should all get at least three people by the week. You all remember basic training, so find a safe house and get them on board. You will have two random citizens to find, and one target that we've been tracing for weeks. If you don't find your target, thats ok. If you can't persuade them I suggest you leave a lasting impression."

Murmurs circled the small crowd, and a couple of excited looks were exchanged.

"Team Leaders to me please."

Brandon, and Isla came over, looking as equally excited as their peers.

"Watcha need boss." Brandon rubbed his hands together and looked on eagerly.

"Ok, Isla, Group Golden's target is the Brownman, he is essential, we've been trying him for months, so you're gonna need to really push him. Do not leave his place without him." Jordan explained, and Isla walked off with a brief explanation scrawled on paper of who he was, and where he lived, his weaknesses and pictures and such.

"Brandon, Group Copper is gonna go out and find Monty. He has a very useful thu'um and we need it for the battle so you'd better come back with him, ok?" he gave him the brief on his target, and walked away, hearing Brandon's hyper laughter trail off behind him.

Jordan turned back to his group.

"Good news Barb, we are not after the Brownman. I changed my mind and I think he's had enough of you." he said. Barb smiled, and Miles nodded, although with a slightly bewildered expression.

"Our guy is MLPMichael. He recently won a another tournament, and I've heard rumours of some pretty strong thu'um on that guy. We're goin to his place first, you guys got it?"

"Yes, oh my god, lets go already." Barb laughed.

"Sixty-one Seville Row." Miles read from the brief, and they started walking towards the street, which was coincidentally, not too far from where they currently were.

They paced the pavement with their heads down so as not to attract trouble, and made their way over the cracked and slanted paving stones, up some stairs, and approached a pretty fancy black door. Fancy for this place, anyway.

Miles leaned down and Barb and Jordan covered him, looking around threateningly with their hands in their pockets with he picked the lock.

With a satisfying click, the door swung open on a single hinge, and inside, more stairs, unlit, grimy bits of earth and gum embedded in the grey carpet.

Miles first, then Barbara and Jordan, they climbed up the stairs, listening for sounds of Michael's famous 'Ragequit' gaming. The kid was a Copper District legend, and had a lot of money for games, so Jordan was expecting the apartment to be packed with gaming equipment. Not that that was unusual. Gaming was everything. But Michael was pro.

"Fucking shit, MOTHERFUCKER!" someone screamed from inside the thin walls next to them, and Miles laughed quietly. Jordan arrived at a white door, the paint peeling off, and knocked three times. The noises from inside stopped abruptly, and the sound of scuffling footsteps could be heard across wooden floors. MLPMichael swung open the door, and immediately pressed a knife right up to Jordan's throat. Despite being short, and not very intimidating, the kid had a rep, and things could get ugly with him around. Jordan heard his team members draw weapons behind him, but he put his hands up and smiled, a gesture of peace, but Michael's eyes were cold stones, and Jordan wasn't sure they could get past him.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Michael Jones, had squinty brown eyes and cracked glasses, to put it shortly. His arms were home to quite a few large tattoos, and he had extremely curly reddish brown hair spilling out from underneath a green striped beanie on that day.

His lips twitched up in a menacing smile, and he took a step back, noticing the other two behind his visitor. He lowered his knife, opened the door further, and gestured for them to enter.

"Michael who is it-" someone whispered inside the apartment.

Michael rolled his eyes as the party stepped inside, and they closed the door.

"Wow Ray, way to fucking go on hiding." Michael laughed, his voice slightly higher than Jordan had remembered from interviews and tournaments.

"Ray?" Barbara frowned, and looked around the room.

In the very corner of the apartment, the air sort of shivered, and the space around it seemed to go wobbly, as a defeated, slump-shouldered Brownman flickered into view.

Jordan smiled.

"Two birds with one stone." Miles whispered in his ear.

"The fucking reason I came here was to get away from these guys!" Ray stomped towards Jones and threw a hand in the Lads' direction angrily.

"Dude I'm sorry don't get mad at me, I didn't know." Michael shrugged.

"You weren't doing a great job of hiding anyways." Miles added, earning him a 'shut up' glare from his leader.

"They've been trying to recruit me for like a year now!" Ray glared at the ground. Jones looked confused. Everyone made their way over to the couch, and Jordan looked over at Barbara, who gave him an uncomfortable stare.

"Yeah, Barb, why don't you go across the streets, find a couple people and bring them over for a chat with us."

She nodded gratefully, and left the apartment.

"Miles, you too." he added. The boy looked crestfallen, but left without a word, and as the door swung shut behind him, Ray breathed out a sigh of relief.

Jordan placed himself on a stool across from the two 'celebrities', and clasped his hands together.

"Why don't I ever get to do the talk?" Miles complained, walking next to Barbara D on the pavement, his breath showing in white clouds the way winter makes it, so that every word or breath or sound is noticeable. Barb had always liked winter. Winter was cold, and cool.

She shrugged, trying not to get involved with his grumblings, and checked her list.

They twisted along pavements, dodging the occaisional rat and lost child, jumping over cracks in the stones and trying to avoid large groups of teens in hoodies.

"Wait." Miles said, and held out a hand to stop Barb from walking any farther.

Unfortunately he hit her straight in the chest, with his palm facing inward. Miles turned and looked at her with an apologetic smile. She glared at him, and shoved him off.

"I heard something fizz. And laughing." he explained, trying to continue his point without giggling. The cold wind blew past them, rustling both their hair back, and carrying the smell of burning. With a quick glance at each other, than ran to the left, down a couple of streets, heads turning rapidly left and right. Barbara was just about to launch off, when Miles got hit straight in the face by a dashing blur, and was launched to the ground with his attacker.

Behind the young man, was a pool of bright green, bubbling acid. Standing next to it, were two others, about the same age as themselves. A girl, and a boy. The laughter previously mentioned had come to an abrupt halt as the two rounded the corner.

Miles stood up and grabbed the first boy who had ran into them, and Barb raced over to stop the two others from running away.

"Did you do this?" she asked them, indicating the acid. The girl, she had bright red hair that hung in a straight curtain around her head, and wide blue eyes that at the time looked scared.

"No, not me-" she stammered.

"I'm not angry." Barb waved her hands and smiled, looking at the boy next. He looked strangely calm, considering that most Cops would've guessed that Miles and Barbara were undercover police officers by now, and should really have bolted. His nose was pretty large actually, now that she looked at it, and had light brown hair, with still, cautious hazel-ish eyes.

They both stayed silent. Miles flashed her a smile, and pushed the boy he was holding along to his feet.

"We want you to meet a couple of people. Come with us and you'll be fine. Try to run, and we'll kill you." Miles told them all, going for the fear tactic. And with that, they all shuffled nervously, and without another word, back down the street and to the apartment.

"So you guys've heard of the Lads, right?" Jordan started. Michael nodded, and his friend stood up, forming words, but Jordan raised a hand, and a gust of tear-jerking wind forced him back onto the couch. The gamer looked startled, and pointed to Jordan's hand with a slack jaw. Ray however, looked unimpressed.

"If we're all getting so comfy with each other's thu'ums I might as well use mine, Brownman." the Lad said, his words ice cold and threatening.

"MLPMichael," Jordan started. "-can I call you Michael?" he asked, and the boy nodded.

"We've been tracking you for about a month now, and rumours get around fast. Whatever happened to that guy who stole your wallet last week?" Jordan asked. Michael looked stunned, but remained silent.

"Hm?" Jordan asked. Michael shook his head.

"Yeah. You both have powerful thu'ums, and we're planning a pretty big attack soon. We need you two."

"Attack on who?" Ray asked.

"The Plats. They recently bombed round here, didn't they?" Jordan asked gently, and the host's eyes lit up like embers swept away on the wind. He nodded.

"Look, you both have your reasons for joining us, and I'm not keen on playing around. So if you want revenge, we can give you basic training before the big attack on Thursday." he explained, and leaned back to study both of their expressions.

Michael looked pretty out of it, far away and thinking about something, but the Brownman was very much there. He sighed, and nodded.

"Fuck it." he said, and shook hands with Jordan.

"I want their blood and you're never gonna stop with this, so really, what choice do I have?" he concluded. Michael nodded.

"Me too man, I want in. But I'm not really clear on what we're doin-"

The door opened with a bang, and Barb and Miles strode in, with two guys and a girl. All three looked the same age as the others in the room, but their heads were low, a sign of respect, and slight fear.

"Well that was fast." Jordan said, and stood up to greet the visitors. He jerked his head towards boys on the couch.

"These two're in." he added, and walked slowly towards the newbies.

"Who're you guys?"

A tall boy with a thin face and a cap too big for his head, stepped forward first, his head still slightly tilted towards the ground, although he made eye contact.

"Caleblovesyou, nine thousand, five hundred gamerscore, and-"

Jordan squinted and waved his hand.

"Can we not?" he said.

"Uh, sure." the boy lifted his head up higher. "Caleb Denecour, caleblovesyou." he said.

The girl in the back piped up, her straight red hair framing her face as she approached Jordan.

"Lindsay Tuggey, Lindsaytugglife." she made eye contact, and for a moment, he noticed the excitable glint hidden under the aura of seriousness that she emitted.

And the last guy spoke up.

"Gavin Free, gavinofree." he said loudly.

A moment of tense silence followed, before Jordan clapped his hands together, and looked at Miles. He nodded, and in a second, all of them were standing back at the base of operations for the Lads.

"What the fuck just happened?" Michael screamed.

"Calm down, this is the base. Just a little portal magic." Jordan laughed.

"Ok, so every one of you is here because of your thu'um, but does anyone know what that means?" Jordan began the long, well rehearsed introduction to; You're a freak, but you're a good freak.

No one answered. He started pacing as people found seats.  
"Ok so your thu'um is kind of like another way of saying your aura, your mana." he stopped pacing and faced them. "Your 'power'."

"Everyone has a thu'um, but not everyone can use it, or has a very useful one." Miles stepped in.

"Everyone is born with the same potential, but it's very rare to develop it through your lifetime, and to use it. A lot of people have similar ones, some people can move shit with their mind, some people can create a little bit of water if they're in dire need, or heal themselves in the midst of battle." Barbara stepped in, and continued, "But those are weak. Not the heavy duty stuff that the Lads do."

"You are not a freak. You are special, unique, and powerful." Jordan took over again, and while he spoke, he looked each one in the eye, looked each one of them in their slightly shocked, enthralled eyes.

"To expand your thu'um, or to make it individual, you must have an extremely over active imagination, your thu'um will often link to your personality in some way. People with a strong thu'um are almost always people who're different from birth. Or in some cases, you could create your thu'um." he said.

"What do you mean?" Gavin asked.

"There are three main types of thu'um." Jordan said, and looked at his comrades, still all stood up. "Potential. This means that you do not have strong thu'um, and it doesn't do much, if anything at all. It's what eighty nine percent of the population possess. If you work or go to school and never dream or imagine or wish or have strange occurrences in your life, this is what you will end up with." Jordan finished, and Barbara continued.

"Mental. This is the kind that you create yourself, subconsciously. It comes from something linked to your personality. This is very different from the other types, because Mental thu'um is something that could be of great use to you in every day life, or reflects your traits in some way. Like if you are hot headed, you may have a heat related power, or if you love to swim you may be able to breath underwater." she smiled.

"And Essential thu'um." Miles finished. "Essential is more uncommon than Mental thu'um, and is created or expanded by having a single situation where thu'um, or the strength to change something is greatly needed. Say, if you nearly drowned as a child, or are drowning, your thu'um, if you are lucky, will pick up on the situation and adapt your body to survive. You may suddenly, or over a period of time adapt closable gills, or be able to control water, something along those lines. It is very different to Mental thu'um, although many mistake the two."

"Now, you should be able to figure out which one you are?" Jordan raised an eyebrow and looked at the recruits.

"Mental, probably." Gavin said, and Caleb agreed.

"Yeah I think I'm essential." Michael said quietly, and Ray whispered something in his ear.

"Mental too." Lindsay established happily.

"What happened-" Gavin leaned over to get a better view of Michael, who shot him an angry glance.

"If you had a life-scarring situation that revealed you had a strong thu'um, would you wanna share it?" Miles explained. Gavin looked like a child being told off in a classroom.

"Essential's often don't." Barb wrapped up.

Jordan took a look at the recruits. Two Essentials, since Ray had never said he was a Mental, and three Mentals. But could any of them do anything worthwhile?

Jordan lifted his walkie talkie up and pressed the com for Group Golden.

"Isla, you there?" he asked, attracting attention from everyone else in the room. After a couple of seconds, some static, and then a reply came through.

"Hey, we've got two useful citizens, but we can't find the Brownman, he wasn't in his apartment."

"Yeah, that's what I checked in to tell you, Brownman was with MLPMichael, they're both with us, so don't worry about it." he explained.

"Alright, that's a relief. See you in a week boss." she replied. Isla was extremely useful, sort of almost his right hand man, except Jordan didn't have one of those. She was always up for extra work and took all of his orders unquestioningly, unlike Uren.

Jordan turned back to face the others. Barbara looked at him, and nodded. He knew what was coming next, and so did Miles apparently. They all shared a smile.

"Alright," he said, motioning for the recruits to get up. "Let's see your thu'um."


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

No one moved. Miles laughed.

"Miles c'mon, shut up." Barbara spoke in hushed tones, nudging him with her elbow.

It was plain to see that she was trying to hide her amusement as well. Jordan felt bad for the new kids. They were almost the same age as him, and he could remember when his team mates were in exactly the same position as the recruits were now.

"Alright, Caleb, what's your thu'um." he asked the boy. Caleb himself was pretty pale and looked very intimidated.

"Um," he looked behind him at the others, and gulped a little, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "I can move really fast I guess." he shrugged.

"Ok," Jordan responded, his mind whirring to life. "Can you pick up that bottle for me please?" he pointed across the apartment living room to a water bottle by the window sill. Caleb looked to the bottle, to Jordan, and in a faint blur that lasted barely a fraction of a second, he was right in Jordan's face with the bottle.

Jordan yelled and stumbled backwards in surprise, waving his arms to regain his balance. The newbie smirked.

"Good to see you got control on that." Jordan coughed, and stood straight again. He looked at Michael, who stood, and came over to him, shaking his fists.

"So, I think I have like, the ability to take on the form of animals or some shit." he told Jordan. The taller man looked intrigued.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Michael shrugged. "If I get kinda angry or if I really need to I can be an animal," he explained. "But as far as I know I really can't do much more than a wolf, or like a dog or some kind of cat." he said. Jordan nodded, and beckoned for him to show him.

"What, like, now?" Michael frowned and spread his arms out in question.

"Why not?" Jordan asked him. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, as he slowly came to understand the boy's predicament.

"My clothes'll get ruined, and I'm not as fucking rich as you might think." he sighed. Michael knew that Jordan was just toying with him now. Without waiting for the older man to speak any more, he sighed defeatedly, and took off his shirt.

In a matter of seconds, the place where he had been standing was occupied by a large, growling russet coloured wolf. It, Michael, sat and rocked on his haunches, not quite meeting anyone's eyes but imposing a threatening figure that could definitely be useful in combat. Jordan smiled and put his hands on his knees, bending down a little to Michael's height.

"You can turn back now." he laughed, and in an instant, Michael was looking down on him.

"You're like that guy from Twilight!" Gavin laughed.

Michael turned and snapped back at him viciously.

"Oh yeah, sure, I'm a fucking werewolf. Shut your mouth you retard."

He turned around and walked back to the chairs, looking at his shoes and glaring at the grubby, creaking floorboards as he walked back to his seat.

"Ray?" Barb leaned right him, hands on hips, waiting for him to get up and display his thu'um. He looked away and grumbled,

"You fucking know what mine is already."

"He can go invisible." Miles told Jordan. Jordan gave him a sour glare.

"Thank you Miles, we all saw." he told his teammate.

"I can kind of um.." Lindsay twiddled her thumbs as she tried to figure out how to explain her thu'um. Everyone looked at her. She looked up at the ceiling, avoiding their stares, and started to speak again.

"I can draw energy from light, and produce harmful stuff with it.." she scratched the back of her head and looked at Jordan. "Like solar power, I guess?"

"What kind of harmful stuff?" Michael twisted backwards to look at her behind the couch, and she grinned with her teeth.

"Like fireballs and shit." she told him, and he smiled back at her.

"Cool." he responded, and turned back to the front with his smile still lingering.

"Could you hover a fireball for us?" Jordan suggested. Lindsay's eyes lit up and she broke into another thin-lipped grin. "Sure thing." she said.

The smile disappeared, and she closed her eyes and lifted her chin up. The light coming from the outside intensified, and the others in the room had to lift their arms up to shield their eyes, as Lindsay's pupils glowed behind her eyelids, like a child playing with a torch beneath their fingers. She brought her hands together, clasping them tightly before loosening. Slowly, slowly, she brought her hands further apart, and in the space where they had been, a great ball of flames became of the light. They licked at nothing, sending off sparks that fizzed and flew. She smiled, and admittedly, her overall appearance was that of a true villain, hovering almost a foot in the air. Then the wind dropped, the light went out and the room was dark. She fell to the floor, and the ball of fire was extinguished in a sudden gust of strong wind.

But when Lindsay opened her eyes, she was frowning.

All eyes turned to face the other side of the room.

Across from her, Jordan stood with his hand out, palm towards her, and a stern glare on his face.

"That's enough. You'd set fire to something if you kept that up any longer." He sounded like a real parent, but Lindsay took it and nodded, stepping back to let Gavin stand, and stumble awkwardly to the front.

"I can make acid, and make it disappear." he explained to everyone.

Gavin raised one hand above the other, palms facing inward. Out of the top hand, a gloopy, bright green, glowing, sizzling waste drooped out. It fell onto his lower hand, and vanished again.

Jordan nodded, and sent him back to his seat. Gavin turned too quickly, missing the brief look of awe that flitted across Jordan's face, and was gone in a heartbeat.

Clearly, the thu'ums were taking longer than he had anticipated, and he wanted to get on with training. The battle was only so many days away, and if they could train these five well enough to survive it, he would have five less Lads to worry about.

Miles opened up what looked like a walkie talkie, with a screen, and started pressing buttons. He looked up at Jordan expectantly.

Jordan swapped the weight from his left, to his right leg, and stood up straight again.

"Alright, we're going to the warehouse next, Barb, Miles, can I just talk to you a second?" he beckoned them over, and everyone on the couch pretended not to listen.

Gavin shook his head, his mouth twisting into a slightly peeved off grimace, and he looked out of the window, at the darkening city, as Jordan finished off his team talk. Gavin was daydreaming, far away, watching the short winter daylight come to an end as the night engulfed the dark District. The lights, in the centre of the city, became more visible. The top of the skyscrapers were lit with brands and revolving restaurants for only the most reputable. Shining billboards, advertising energy drinks and clothes and people and luxuries that no one in the Copper District had ever known. He could imagine the clanking of cutlery hitting plates and bowls, the laughter and soft music played live in the background.

It was unfair, everyone knew it, even the Plats must've seen it coming, must've been preparing by then. He felt good for joining the Lads. Really, he had no clue what they actually did, though. He'd been dragged in, thankfully he was happy with it, but it had all been very disorganised and rapid, and he wondered how ready they really were.

"Gavin?"

His head swiveled round, his jawline resting on his fist, holding his head up, lips squished together underneath his nose.

"Hm?" he shook himself, and tried to look as if he had been paying attention, meeting everyone in the eye as they stared at him. They knew the score, but Gavin was annoyed that they had pinned him. It made him feel like he was back in school, and put him on the defensive.

It came to his not so immediate attention that they were all standing, as he still sat. Correcting his first mistake, he stood, fast, and banged his leg on the table in front of him. He frowned and swore, cursing himself for being so stupid in front of everyone. He tried to play on a casual smile, and looked up again.

"I said we're leaving." Jordan smirked.

Gavin smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I know guys." he said in lighthearted tones. Luckily, everyone laughed, and turned to shuffle to the door behind one another in the cramped building. He hobbled to the door, walking it off, but turned again as someone cleared their throat. So the newbies shuffled back again, like lost sheep.

Miles whipped his hands around and turned in one fluid movement, pushing his palms outwards in front of him, and in an instant, a black, pulsating vortex with a dark kind of centre, and pink and black edges, like the edge of the universe or something similar.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my thu'um; portals." Miles announced, with a dumb grin plastered on his face.

"I really don't wanna step in there." Ray confessed. Michael walked to the front and stuck his arm in. It disappeared inside the strange vortex type disc thing, the jagged edges still pumping, smaller and then larger every second. Gavin noticed that it was flat from the side, and dropped his weight to one leg as he asked, "Where does it go again?"

"A warehouse," Jordan said. He was looking in the portal, his arms folded and sounding distant when he spoke. "We've got some dummies and training equipment set up in there already." he explained. He blinked, his eyes suddenly refocused, and he smiled cheekily. Pushing back on one foot, he ran, and kicked back on the creaky wooden floors, shaking the room as he jumped into the portal, arms back behind him, disappearing into the black, starry vortex. Miles laughed, and turned his back on the portal. With a quick look over his shoulder, he jogged backwards into the portal, and disappeared, just like Jordan. Someone behind Gavin breathed out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. He didn't care to turn around and see who.

Barb stepped through the portal as well, a second behind her teammates. As the tip of her littlest finger was sucked through, a sort of ripple, like the kind that water makes appeared, and then the portal stilled again.

"Y'know," Lindsay spoke, and everyone turned to look at her. She waved a hand to the door of the apartment behind her without looking back. "You could literally all just leave right now if any of you are scared." she suggested, her eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief.

"Whatever." Michael said, and charged straight for the portal, squeezing his eyes tight shut as his head, back, and lastly, his foot, disappeared in Miles's portal. Ray was straight after him without a word. Caleb, Lindsay and Gavin stood silently for a while, no one quite meeting anyone else's eyes.

"We could seriously go if you want." Lindsay murmured, her eyes flicking up to Gavin's face for a fraction of a second.

A swooshing sound, followed by Michael's head came from the direction of the portal, making everyone jump.

"Are you shitheads coming or what?" he laughed, and vanished again. Gavin looked back to his two friends.

"If you wanna leave, go ahead." he looked at his shoes, and lifted a foot, the white lace flying in the air and smacking against his green converses. He turned, and with his head up and facing the portal, he jumped.


End file.
